


Everything

by probablyawful



Category: Downton Abbey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 00:12:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5312357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/probablyawful/pseuds/probablyawful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on Thomas' and Mrs. Hughes' conversation after Thomas has been told he has to go without a reference in series 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything

\- “I'm afraid if I do, Mrs. Hughes, that it will shock and disgust you.”

He was shaking, quiet, contained sobs rocking his body and Mrs. Hughes found herself feeling sorry for the man. It also unnerved her that she had never seen him anything but put together, but here he was, hair disheveled by the rain, clutching his hat tightly in his hands, standing more than six feet from the ground but still reminding her of a child in so many ways. She didn't know what it was that would shock and disgust her so terribly, but somewhere deep down she had her suspicions, and were they correct, he had little to worry about where her opinion was concerned.

\- “Shock and disgust?” she could hardly contain her laughter. She didn't believe him for a second. - “My, my, I'm going to have to hear it now.”

She put her hand on his back, and he leaned into her, ever so slightly, as if she in her small form could actually keep him upright.

\- “Come on now.”

 

She led him to the servants' dining room in silence and poured him some tea. He wrapped his hands around the cup, still shaking. She found herself anxious to know what it was he wasn't telling but contained herself not to push. He would tell when he was ready. Sitting down on the opposite side of the table, she took a sip of tea and just waited. After about five minutes, he put his cup down and wiped clumsily at his face, before taking a shaky breath.

\- “You know Jimmy?” Mrs. Hughes leaned back in her chair. - “Hard not to.”

Thomas grinned vaguely at that, and Mrs. Hughes felt a sense of relief at having loosened up the atmosphere ever so slightly.

\- “Well,” Thomas said, with hesitation, - “I've found myself sort of… fancying him quite a bit, and...” He paused, looking up, anticipating Mrs. Hughes' reaction.

She gave none. Her face was unreadable. In truth, she wasn't at all surprised. They had all guessed downstairs, besides, he wasn't the first man she had met who preferred the company of other men to that of women, to say the least. Through her 62 year long life, she had learned to consider it nothing but a simple part of some people's nature.

\- “Go on,” she encouraged, and Thomas didn't know if he had started hallucinating, but he could have sworn there was a tone of friendliness in her voice.

\- “And I did something terribly stupid,” he stated, - “Let's leave it at that.”

He took a sip of his tea, not daring to meet the woman's eyes. Mrs. Hughes' glance was sterner now.

\- “What did you do?” she asked, workplace voice back, not firm precisely, but not directly soft either.

He had no choice but to answer. She probably expected something much worse than what had actually gone on. He still couldn't comprehend how she had given no reaction to his admission to having fancied Jimmy. Maybe she was daft enough to believe he didn't mean it the way he did. No, that didn't seem likely; Mrs. Hughes was a sharp one, and Thomas suspected from what little he knew about reading people that she had seen bits and pieces of the real world.

\- “I got the impression that he felt the same way,” he began, as he had with Carson, suspecting a similar reaction. The two were thick as thieves, after all.

_Seems an odd mistake to make_.

Again, she gave no reaction to speak of. She was unreadable, and it unnerved him.

\- “So I went into his room late at night and kissed him. He was asleep.” Comprehending how that sounded, he felt like explaining himself, so that she didn't think he was a complete predator in every sense of the word. - “Not to… you know… with him when he was asleep, of course, only to wake him up… It ended horribly. To say the least. And now he wants to report me to the police unless Carson refuses to give a reference. So that's why...”

He stopped, having to force himself not to cry again. He feared Mrs. Hughes' reaction in that brief moment, especially considering he had no idea what it would be. Maybe she would kick him out, or just sit there with that blank, unreadable expression.

_I don't wish to tour your revolting world._

He had certainly forced Mrs. Hughes to now, but then again, _she_ asked.

_You have been twisted by nature into something foul_.

That could be a more likely reaction.

_Don't get clever with me when you should be horsewhipped_.

\- “He what?” Her eyes widened and she actually looked genuinely shocked, but not as shocked as Thomas was at her reaction. - “Make no mistake, Mr. Barrow, kissing someone in their sleep is never a good idea; we're not our best selves when we're woken up, but it's hardly a reason to report anyone to the police.”

\- “I think he's perfectly entitled to in the eyes of the law,” Thomas muttered bitterly, still in tremendous disbelief of the fact that Mrs. Hughes actually seemed to be on his side.

\- “Not for kissing, that can't be right.”

Thomas wasn't entirely certain himself, but he knew the law was described in vague terms and was he to be reported to the police, he would hardly win should there be a trial. He knew that for sure. And he was certain Mrs. Hughes did too. He was more surprised at Mrs. Hughes referring to other matters than kissing, especially where his nature was concerned.

\- “You're not disgusted, then?” he asked, praying to a God that resented him that she wouldn't be.

She sighed then, in something sounding like annoyance.

\- “No, I'm not disgusted,” she stated, and with an assertive nod in his direction, she continued, - “Nor am I all that shocked either, for that matter.”

Thomas kept his gaze fixed on his tea, as if it was going to crumble under his gaze.

\- “Do they all know, then? Downstairs.”

\- “I think we've always known, only now it's made official. And that is frightening to some people.”

Frightening to some people. Thomas doubted there were people more frightened by this particular case than he was, but he didn't say that.

\- “Not to you then?”

He didn't know why he craved that instant reassurance so badly. He tended to manage perfectly without depending on anyone, but now he seemed to revel in knowing that Mrs. Hughes didn't actually consider him a pervert or some sort of freak of nature. She shrugged, almost uncomfortably.

\- “You're not the first of your kind I've met,” she stated, and Thomas nearly coughed up his tea at that.

\- “No?”

With a sigh, Mrs. Hughes leaned forward a bit, keeping her hands in her lap.

\- “My cousin,” she stated, - “He was a few years older than I was. He was handsome enough, so when he reached the age of thirty and not yet married, my family started to worry. They didn't do much about it, but there was talk.”

She drew a deep breath.

\- “And eventually village talk might lead to action, which it did, in his case. So one day it was rumored that someone had found him in an abandoned place with another man, and...”

She stopped herself, feeling a lump forming she didn't know she had been carrying all those years. This was the first time she had actually been able to tell that story, in its entirety. She had broken bits and pieces of it to Mr. Carson, but had obviously had to keep the most controversial part out of it, so it became only half the story, not the whole. But now she was sharing this story for the first time, with Thomas Barrow of all people – a man she prior to this very moment had hardly credited with emotions at all, let alone empathy.

But that wasn't who he was, not all he was, at least, and that was made perfectly clear as he looked straight at her, with still bloodshot, pale blue eyes and an expression she could only characterize as _open_.

\- “Then what happened?” he asked, his tone unnaturally quiet, almost concerned.

\- “Then some thugs in the village killed him.” She did her best at keeping her voice steady.

Thomas drew a breath, his mouth falling open slightly.

\- “Beat him to death, it was graphically depicted in the papers. Suppose they went at it for about an hour, those bastards. The other man seemingly got away, thank God. Who knows? Could have had a wife and children, for all I know. Living a double life of sorts.”

Thomas nodded in sympathy. He had known a few of those. He was getting chills down his spine – he was aware it was a rather common scenario and he knew that should worse come to worse he would just be another statistic. He didn't have to ask Mrs. Hughes if the police did something about it – he knew they didn't. Not enough, at the very least. Left it at 'didn't find out who did it' after about a month, if he presumed correctly. Unsolved case which was never really prioritized to begin with.

\- “I'm sorry.”

He didn't know if he was saying it to her or just in general.

\- “So am I.”

She stared directly at him then, emotion tugging behind her eyes, visibly so. They said nothing for a while, before Thomas brought out his pack of cigarettes. He lit one with a shaking hand, before muttering inaudibly, more to himself than to Mrs. Hughes.

\- “Suppose prison won't be easy on a man like me, either, will it?” He tried to keep his tone humorous, but in truth he was terrified. How could he not be?

\- “I'm not letting you go to prison,” Mrs. Hughes stated firmly, and Thomas laughed humorlessly.

\- “Won't do me any good to go without a reference either,” he countered, - “Unless I go Ethel's way.”

\- “Don't be vulgar,” Mrs. Hughes shot, - “It's not a laughing matter.”

Thomas smiled bitterly. - “I'm not laughing.”

Mrs. Hughes sighed, then straightened up in her chair.

\- “I am going to have a talk with Mr. Carson so that we can sort this out good and proper. I can't promise you it will work, but I can promise you I won't give up on you. You're a qualified man in many areas of expertise and you served in the war for king and country…”

_And would be shot for cowardice, if the nation had it their way_ , Thomas thought, but naturally said nothing.

\- “You are not going to be handed an unfairly insecure and potentially dangerous future because some silly flirt kept giving you mixed signals.” She drew a breath, calming herself. - “Go get some rest now, Mr. Barrow. I will talk with Carson in the morning, don't worry.”

He got up from his chair and as he was about to head out, he turned and looked back.

\- “Thank you,” he said, as sincerely as he could muster. - “You have no idea what it means to me.”

She nodded in his direction.

\- “Don't mention it.”

He wouldn't. Ever again. This remained between them, but as he got out of the hall and got back into the men's quarters, he knew there were worse places than at Downton. Not that Mrs. Hughes was likely to get anything through Carson's thick, stubborn skull, but at least she had positioned herself entirely on his side. And sentimental as that was, it was something he had never had, and it did count for something.


End file.
